5/10/2008

I was a little crestfallen to not be able to make it to the Baraboo Sharks RR on Saturday, so I instead turned my sights to the Vernon Hills Grand Prix on Sunday.

Indeed, it was a grand race. 40 percent of the field consisted of just Alberto riders. Now, I know what you’re all thinking. “Gosh, that sure is an unfair advantage!”, you might say. Well then, let’s rephrase the statement; there were two Alberto’s ladies. Yeah, you don’t even have to do the math.

Anyway, the race started out tricky seeing as though the road was wall to wall with cyclists. Sue and I sat on the back of the pack, but we didn’t worry because we knew we had the super-awesome bike-handling skills and experience required to move up when we deemed necessary. A lady in blue (a.k.a 20 percent of the field) pulled us around for about two laps, and I was starting to get a little antsy. So I attempted my first attack of the race. It was to no avail, though, because the mighty power of the colossal field was on my wheel in an instant. No worries, though, it was only one of about 8,000 attacks I was going to attempt in the race. In fact, I think I may have attacked just about every lap. So much for surprise; every time we rounded turn three everyone started sprinting because they knew I was going to attack.

Anyway, eventually one of my attacks worked, and luckily I had Sue there to block the front of the field for me. I soon found myself in a meager group off the front consisting of the two Alberto’s ladies and me. Both of them worked together and kept me sandwiched between them at all times. So what did I do to counter this move? I attacked! Eventually one of the women got dropped and it was just two of us working together. So then what did I do? In unison now….I attacked! And what do you know? It worked! I gained almost a third of a lap on the lady and rode across the finish line pumping my fists in the air like I just won the Tour de France. Close enough.

So then, of course, I had to stand on the podium and claim my victory. And that is when my worst nightmare came true. The announcer guy decided it would be a great idea to interview the top three riders, but little did he know that Jessi Prinner has this severe disease called Stage-Fright. Definition of Stage-Fright: a huge, vicious monster lurking in the dark that only strikes when one is plopped on a stage (or other elevated area) in front of a large crowd.

Announcer man, “So, Jessi, it must feel great to have claimed the overall victory. I noticed how you attacked with just three laps to go when you were with only one other rider…what compelled you to make this decision instead of waiting it out to the end to sprint?”

Jessi (speaking to brain), “Okay Brain, time to kick it into high gear. Make Jessi’s mouth say something interesting!”

Brain, “……….”

Jessi, “C’mon, don’t fail me now!”

Brain, “……….” (a soft ocean breeze and the sound of crickets chirping can be heard in the backround)

Jessi, “Dang it! Recall something from past experience…..I must have learned something useful in school that can be applied now.”

Brain, “The Law of Embryology states that ontology recapitulates phylogeny. The product of the reciprocals of two positive numbers is equal to the reciprocal of their product. Desertification contributed to the migration of the Bantus in Africa.”

Jessi, “This isn’t helping.”

Mouth, “********************” (This quote has been hidden to protect the identity of…..well…me. It shall forever be forgotten because if it isn’t, there is a large possibility that it will forever go down in history as the worst sentence ever put together by a human being, much less spoken in front of a vast crowd.)

And so that ends my tale of Vernon Hills. Next time I will be prepared for my speech, and when my moment comes, I will say, “hold on a sec Mr. Announcer Man, I gotta get my notecard out…”